SWIFTLY the years, beyond recall. Solemn the stillness of this fair morning. I will clothe myself in spring-clothing And visit the slopes of the Eastern Hill. By the mountain-stream a mist hovers, Hovers a moment, then scatters. There comes a wind blowing from the south That brushes the fields of new corn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VARIATIONS: 11 by CONRAD AIKEN I'VE NEVER SEEN SUCH A REAL HARD TIME BEFORE' by HAYDEN CARRUTH ETERNITY BLUES by HAYDEN CARRUTH SONNET TO THOSE WHO SEE BUT DARKLY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 1 by CLARENCE MAJOR SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: JONAS KEENE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |